2014-01-06 - Mommy Dearest
The Gotham evening brings the smell of industry, of exhaust and fuel, of all the things that keeps the Batman's city moving and awake through the long cold winter nights. It is a good night for reunions, for dark deeds, for clandestine meetings. The moon is dark. The skies are clouded. The wind blows faintly, tugging at the few remaining leaves that have clung stubbornly in defiance of their deaths to the skeletal arms of their trees. The faint scent of sandalwood and amber waft across the evening breeze, for a moment overriding the other scents but is quickly gone. It's getting dark when Damian and Carrie's training run winds down with the final stretch towards the manor. Snow crunches under their feet, and Damian who is for the moment slightly in the lead keeps a even steady pace, since this is more of a cool down run than something ramping up to more intense training. They have an awkward dinner with Baby Bruce and a disapproving Alfred to look forward to. "So, one more day of intense training, then we-" Damian begins before he skids to a stop and a knife all but materializes in his hand. He'd grown used to the smells of Gotham that lingered even all the way out in Bristol, but sandalwood was not one of those smells. That was her smell, that was mother. "Carrie, she's here," he says urgently a little note of fear in his voice as he surveys their surroundings. They were exposed and out on the road with entirely too many shadows for the League to be hiding in all around. "Back to back," he says to Carrie drawing a second dagger from under his hoodie and tossing it to her. He didn't know if Carrie was armed, but he made allowances for her not being in his own weapons load. "No, tonight is resting and preparing..." The suggestion dies quickly when the knife appears in Damian's hand. Instantly her eyes narrow with a puff of breath blown up to knock her bangs out of her face. A single sharp nod is given as she steps in and twists to the side. The tossed knife is caught only to be placed between her teeth holding onto it in this manner. From the pocket of her hoodie she pulls her slingshot loaded up with some sleep gas pellets and rubber pellets for impact as well. "Where?" She asks betwen clenched teeth as she scans around trying to take in everything with one sweep. It was too soon--This wasn't the plan. "Little Wing..." a woman's voice dances across the breeze. "I see you are had at work, training." Talia al Ghul leans against a tree not too distant from the road, close enough to speak, to see, to hear... but far enough away. Just far enough away. She does not move, not yet, towards her son. "Who is your friend?" From anyone else, the question would be simply curious. From her lips though, it is almost ominous. Damian watches the tree line knife held in close in a reverse grip. "I smell her, I don't see her," he reports back to Carrie with his heart beating hard in his chest. "We'll try and-" He turns the blade flashing in the fading light half-way back to his ear ready to throw. "Mother," he greets her, keeping his voice controlled. "You're early," he says. He does not answer her question, the less she focuses on Carrie the better. Smell her? How did he... There was a certain sweet smell in the air but Carrie had figured it for simply some tree, or winter blooming flower. Flowers were, sadly, not one of her areas of expertise. Much less that certain woodsy sweet smell that seemed familiar but not quite. A single 'Mm' of apparent acceptance to what is said comes as her eyes swing over toward Talia when her presence is made known. The woman is stared at though her eyes skirt away to ensure she's alone. It wouldn't do to be caught unawares because of a single individual distracting them. "Can't a mother decide to come a bit early to see her son on his birthday?" Talia asks smoothly. And no. Not when the mother in question is the daughter of the head of the League of Assassins. "How has your training been going?" Ah yes. Back to business. Damian watches his mother closely trusting Carrie to watch his back, something his mother could probably tell at once. He ignores her first question and focuses on the second "We're going to discuss this here?" he asks her. "Fine, I guess. So do we fight now or what?" Red Robin frowns around the blade in her mouth starting to feel a bit silly from holding it between her teeth. Plus there was just the fact that it was uncomfortable. Reluctantly she risks drawing her hand back that held the base of the slingshot to take the knife out and instead slide it up the sleeve of her opposite arm blade-first. She'd be able to grab it in a pinch. Extending her arm again she keeps the slingshot at the ready with the ammo still loaded. "This isn't exactly the best place for a thrown-down," she advises, dryly. "Is that what you wish, little one?" Talia steps towards him, slowly, evenly paced, not so quickly as to seem a threat. That doesn't mean she isn't one, though. Not even slightly. "And here I thought we could have such a nice family reunion." "Isn't that the routine?" Damian asks as his mother advances he shifts a step back, moving so that Carrie has a clear shot to cover him. "As for your reunion plans, I don't think Father wants to see you, and I definitely am not going back to Madripoor or wherever you're hiding these days." Carrie steps slightly to the side so that she can indeed do just that. She's doing her best to keep track of everything around with her ears peeled for the sound of anyone else. So far though... So far it didn't seem to be the case. "We've kind of grown fond of him," she admits with a small shrug apparently agreeing with Damian for his remark of not going anywhere. "Oh, Damian." Talia smiles. "I have no intention of taking you from your father." She tilts her head. "In fact, I think you will learn much from him. I only want to see what training he has given you so far." As for whether or not she would fight him-- well. She doesn't answer that one. She does continue stepping towards him, until she is within arm's reach. Damian seems to relax just a little when she says she doesn't intend to take him back, though when she's in arm's reach he strikes. The knife is thrown at her face with a flick of his wrist the, the movement barely perceptible until the knife is airborne then, he's throwing a kick hard for her gut to knock the wind from her. "Carrie!" he shouts as he lets himself duck low to give her a clear follow up shot. His free hand reaches into his pocket. Carrie is quick to follow through swinging around to aim over Damian's head. The snap of the rubber is barely audible as she lets fly a gas pallet well as a rubber bullet aimed for Talia's sternum intending to both wind her, and make her inhale the knock out gas in one go. Even after the move is made she back pedals to give Damian room to move again swinging her arm out toward him as if offering it for him to take. Except that's not the case. The hilt of the knife he had given her sticks out from her sweatshirt sleeve ready to be taken by him should he need. "Make it to the house!" she blurts out apparently intending to stall for time. Talia is faster than that, and, truth to tell, she was expecting it. "/That/ is my Little Wing," she says as she spins aside, a note of pride in her tone. Damian's knife and foot and Carrie's shot fly through open air, missing the highly trained assassin. She lashes out a leg, low, intending to sweep Damian off his feet and knock him into the red-headed girl, throwing her off balance. Damian jumps the leg sweep. The hand in his pocket comes out and he closes his fist with a soft crunch before he sweeps that arm in an arc towards Talia letting a cloud of white powder fly from his hands towards his mother. She'd know it as a simple irritant, ninja trickery like the sort Kirigi would have taught Damian and his other League students. Damian grabs the knife from Carrie and he says. "You go, I follow," bad strategy, but he feels he's on the verge of winning and can't back down now. The knife is taken by Damian allowing her arm to yank back. The fact that he dodged the leg sweep makes it easy for Carrie to backpedal now to gain some distance and ensure that there wouldn't be a chance for Talia to try and use their proximity to her advantage again. "Pulling rank on you here, D," she rebukes as she reloads her slingshot with another shot taking aim once more. Talia leaps up and flips over the majority of the handful of powder, landing lightly in the snow beside Damian. Before he can react, she disarms him, the knife knocked from his hand into the snow, and draws him into a tight embrace, ruffling his hair and dipping down to kiss the top of head. "Is this what you have for me, son?" she asks teasingly, holding his tightly-- in such a way it is difficult for him to escape her hug, which will likely only serve to frustrate him more. Damian doesn't go into that embrace easily. He struggles, and drives his heel back to try and catch one of her feet, and throws an elbow too for good measure. "Thrice-damned harlot!" he snarls up at her. "Let me go!" he grips her arm and jerking his hips back he attempts a hip throw to put his mother in the snow. Carrie narrows her eyes when Talia grabs hold of Damian to... to hug him. A look of puzzlement flits over her face though she stares unable to look away from the odd sight. Instead she keeps her aim out only to lift an eyebrow when he insults his mom calling her a harlot. "... We need to work on your insults, Damian." But for now she can't do much of anything since Talia has hold of Damian. Talia ruffles Damian's hair one more time, leaving it mussed-- the slight smirk on her lips indicates that she may, in fact, be perfectly aware of how frustrated that action makes him-- before releasing him and flipping away. As if nothing of the sort had happened, she asks, "So, how is your father? Have you been taking advantage of your time here?" Damian rounds on his mother with a scowl. "Fine," he says as he moves back to stand next to Carrie. "All of it is fine," he says guardedly, back straight hands held loosely at his sides. Still, he's tense ready for the next attack or trick. "So did you really come all this way to catch up? Because somehow I don't believe that." "But if that is the case..." Carrie lets the remark hang a moment with a look cast to Talia. She wasn't quite buying it herself, really. "Why are you here? You know the Boss isn't going to like it if you just show up trying to make all nice." "I came into town early," Talia says, ignoring Carrie, "Because I am preparing your birthday present." Her gaze rests on her son. "I wished to have a better grasp of how well your father has been training you-- I would require my present to be suitable, of course." She looks him over. "How have you been faring among the decadent Westerners? Have they been feeding you the poisons they like to ingest? Have they been drugging you?" Her gaze grows hard. "Have they mutilated you in any way, Damian?" Damian doesn't let down his guard. "tt. What are you blathering about?" he says more annoyed than scared now, his heart slowing to a more calm rhythm. "Anyhow if we're not going to fight until later, then let us past, Carrie and I have poisons to ingest." He starts forward nodding to Carrie to follow, trying to move past his mother. Carrie drops her weapon down if only because this didn't seem as if it was going to escalate further and her arm was getting tired holding up so long. Her eyes roll a bit at mention of Decadent Westerners though. "The drugs were only that one time and that wasn't us," she puts forth with a wry grin. Until mention of poisons come. "... Soda's off limits right now, remember? Could probably do iced tea though." If things were going to be casual she would stay casual, and shrug faintly as she tucks her slingshot back into her hoodie. For now. Still she watches Talia warily. "So, you remain intact then?" Talia asks abruptly. "They have not muliated your manhood like they do with most of their boychildren?" She nods curtly. "That is good." She steps back, smirking lightly. "I will be around. We will see each other again soon," she promises. Damian has a full body twitch at what Talia asks of him. "That's disgusting mother, you should really stop listening to grandfather's insane rants about the evils of society, I think he's finally reaching his dotage," he says his voice calm, but he is clearly agitated and eyeing his mother like she'd gone insane herself. "When you're ready to deal with matters properly, you know where to find me," he jerks his head towards the mansion, but keeps his eyes on Talia, walking backwards as he passes her. "FFFFT!" Carrie chokes. There was no other way to describe that noise she makes as the air rushes from her lungs and her face reddens. As pale as she was, being a ginger, it was impossible to miss the blush that comes when Talia explains precisely what she means. Even while Damian goes on about Ras Al Ghul being a bit out of his mind she just stares pointedly NOT at Damian. If Talia is insulted by her son, she doesn't show it. She moves backwards herself, disappearing into the night... to plan who knows what as a birthday 'present' for her son. Damian watches his mother until she is gone then turns to Carrie, and when he sees her looking away he moves to her side grabbing her arm. "Are you alright?" he checks her over, expecting to see a dart or something like that causing the strange reaction. "Fine." It comes out in a rushed squeak and the fact that she's blushing is quite obvious indeed. Her gaze averts from Damian to stare at the manor though she doesn't try to turn away or shake him off. "Let's get inside, I'm freezing my butt off." Food would be a good distraction and then she could ignore the fact that she just found out Damian was... DO NOT THINK. Damian frowns at her, he's not sure what's going on but it's clear he's missing something and that makes him nervous. "Sure," he says guardedly. "Let's go back inside, but let's not mention this to the others," he says frowning and leading the way back to the manor, keeping his eyes on their surroundings. "At least until later." Carrie murmers, "Yes, please," as she glances back over her shoulder just to ensure Talia was either gone or leaving. Then without wasting a moment further she sets out in a jog up to the large home intending to get inside and away from embarassing questions as soon as possible. Damian remains behind a moment or two longer to cover their retreat before he joins her. He moves at a jogging pace to reach the manor and follows her inside.